


Catharsis | James Sirius Potter

by sketchedcrisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gryffindor, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Multi, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Ravenclaw, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchedcrisis/pseuds/sketchedcrisis
Summary: 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | ❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆. ❞the past can cage you, make you its prisonerbehind stone cold bars, the spectres of whatone could never be staring you in the face,nowhere to run from them.and the past may also set you free,as the carefree air hits your lungs,you turn around and realise you have leftyour worries far behind,now that the truth is at last revealed.the past will haunt us,and only by looking it in the eyes,we may finally find peace.[ next generation harry potter ][ fem! oc x james s. pottermulti! oc x multi! oc ][ originally est. 2015brought back in sept. 30, 2020. ]
Relationships: Fred Weasley II/Original Female Character(s), James Sirius Potter/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. CATHARSIS

kaya scodelario,   
as lucy stewart

❝ if it wasn't for my brilliant leadership, i don't know where you dafts would be today. ❞

· ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

dylan o'brien,  
as james sirius potter

❝ listen, i was named after the two finest pieces of ass to ever step this school, i will NOT tolerate this kind of disrespect- ❞

· ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

tom holland,   
as thomas stewart

❝ i have a migraine that comes and goes everytime fred enters and leaves the bloody room. ❞

· ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

jake t. austin,  
fred weasley ii

❝ i know you guys are tired of hearing this, but NOW i have a plan, and THIS TIME, it will work! ❞

· ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

zendaya,  
as melody healey

❝ i'm like your guardian angel, see? except i let you make a disgrace out of yourself. however, i observe and watch over you, unbothered. ❞

· ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

❝ _apparently, we all must have enough things in common to end up in the same house, something that still baffles me, even though it's been six years since i first enrolled into this school. they are idiots, and their total, unfixable obliviousness continues to blow my mind, everyday. but, i don't know, sometimes... sitting with them, trying not to laugh at their utter nonsense, it kind of feels homely. the blinding red of our common room becomes comforting, irreplaceable._ ❞

— **extract from melody healey's notebook of 'personal experiences and grievances'.**

· ˚ . * · ✵ · · ˚ * . ✵ . · ˚ * . · ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

**_WITH!_ **

thomas brodie-sangster, as teddy lupin (graduate, ex-hufflepuff)  
shelley hennig, as mia wood  
(sixth year, ravenclaw)  
hailee steinfeild, as hannah laurence  
(sixth year, gryffindor)  
laura harrier, as aurora blanc   
(sixth year, ravenclaw)  
reece king, as romeo blanc   
(sixth year, hufflepuff)  
tyler posey, as elio mackenzie   
(sixth year, gryffindor)  
kelsey chow, as leilani jessel   
(sixth year, gryffindor)  
sophie skelton, as dominique weasley  
(sixth year, gryffindor)  
bill skarsgård, as edward ackerman   
(sixth year, hufflepuff)

luca hollestelle, as rose weasley  
(fourth year, gryffindor)  
dylan sprayberry, as albus potter   
(fourth year, slytherin)  
raffey cassidy, as halle grey  
(fourth year, gryffindor)  
your imagination, as scorpius malfoy   
(fourth year, slytherin)  
alisha boe, as roxanne weasley   
(fourth year, ravenclaw)

dani calleiro, as georgie stewart   
(second year, slytherin)  
asa butterfield, as dylan mairleen   
(second year, gryffindor)  
chloë grace moretz, as lisa grey  
(second year, ravenclaw)  
amybeth mcnulty, as lily luna potter   
(second year, gryffindor)  
sofia bryant, as cassie healey   
(third year, slytherin)

· ˚ . * · ✵ · · ˚ * . ✵ . · ˚ * . · ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄  
ⁱ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ʷʰᵃᵗˢᵒᵉᵛᵉʳ!

this story is originally posted on wattpad under the username sketchedcrisis.

i will in no way follow any plot events of the cursed child. i hate that book with my soul, and it doesn't exist for me. the harry potter series ended in book 7/deathly hallows part 2 in my vision. so, yes, don't expect anything from that cursed book to show up here.

any canon characters you don't recognise (aka. those who aren't members of the potter/weasley/malfoy family) are my original creation! **except for aurora & romeo blanc, alongside edward ackerman**, those three (and any members of the blanc family) were created by my amazing friend **[cloudy](https://www.wattpad.com/user/b-bunnyslove)** & i hope i can write them properly! i am not claiming this is those three character's canon story, i just merely wanted them to be part of the book.

while i don't own the world of harry potter, let this go on record, i in no way support j.k. rowling and her disgusting actions and thoughts. i merely take the magical world that is harry potter to recreate what i felt when i read the books: wonder, amazement, affection, and love. that world is still ours, and if _she_ doesn't honour it, i find it absolutely amazing for the fandom to reclaim it and give it justice.

this book will contain _strong language, underage drinking and smoking, plus mentions and talk of sex, as well as, the characters being unbelievably idiotic, most of the time._ and yes, there will be other pairings in this book besides jacy (james x lucy), to provide you all the teenage angst you need. nothing out of this world crazy, just thought i would give you a heads up!

thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read xx.


	2. playlist & soundtrack

**_PLAYLIST_ **

**READY TO RUN | one direction**  
cause i wanna be yours,   
and you wanna be mine,  
i don't want to get lost in the dark of the night.

 **REJECTS | 5 seconds of summer**  
sick of the system, don't want to hear it  
it's not a secret that i'm just a reject.

 **CRY BABY | the neighbourhood**  
i already know that i'll fall in love with you  
that's just what i'll do.

 **WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME | 5 seconds of summer**  
we're together all alone tonight  
so helpless from the other side

 **PAPER RINGS | taylor swift**  
i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this

 **SAFETY PIN | 5 seconds of summer**  
maybe this time, two wrongs make a right.

 **SHE'S A GOD | neck deep**  
she looks at me with her eyes like planets in a solar flare.

 **I'M NOT IN LOVE | 10cc**  
it's just a silly phase i'm going through.

 **BURN | dani calleiro**  
i tell myself i wouldn't be this way,   
but i want him.  
something about him is pulling me his way  
and i love it.

 **BROWN EYED BOYS | lauren cimorelli**  
every other night, when it's late up in my room,  
i'm looking at the stars, wish i was looking at you.

 **18 | one direction**  
long before we both thought the same thing:  
to be loved & to be in love.

 **GETAWAY CAR | taylor swift**  
don't pretend it's such a mystery  
think about the place where you first met me.

 **FRIENDS WILL BE FRIENDS | queen**  
hold out your hand, friends will be friends  
right till the end.

· ˚ . * · ✵ · · ˚ * . ✵ . · ˚ * . · ✺ · . * · ✵ · · ˚ *

**_SOUNDTRACK_ **

**THE INVISIBILITY CLOAK AND THE LIBRARY SCENE**  
john williams

 **BRIDGE AND LOVE'S BURNING**  
michael giacchino

_[ under construction ! ]_


	3. epigraph

On our backs we laid on the grass: you and I.  
Melted air like wax under the scorch of the sun  
Dripped across stubble like a river.  
Pressing silence mastered the earth  
and a question fell to the bottom of my soul.

Had the earth  
nothing to tell me? This entire earth  
ruthlessly large and murderously mute,  
nothing?

To hear it better I pasted  
my ear to the land– doubtful and submissive–  
and from under the land I heard your  
bustling heart beating.

The earth was responding.

**— Lucian Blaga, 'Earth'**   
**(translation)**


	4. [ 01 ]

**THE SUN PEEKED THROUGH THE**  
windows of the Gryffindor Tower on a chilly September evening, that warned the end of summer was upon the Hogwarts castle. However, the sun remained bright and warm, and once it hit Lucy's eyelids, through the little space between the curtains of the four poster, she knew there was no turning back.

"Bollocks," She muttered under her breath, pulling the covers up to cover her head. While in summer break, she had easily, blissfully forgotten about the sun nosily showing itself when she slept in the Hogwarts dormitories. Getting used to it, even though this was the sixth year she'd known it, was harsh.

"Finally," Melody commented when the curtains were parted. She might've been waiting there for a while, judging by her wearing already clean robes, and the combed down curly hair.

"Finally?" Lucy repeated, rubbing her eyes to help the blurry morning vision. "How long were you waiting?"

"A while. You sleep an awful lot. No need to dwell on how long I awaited," She shrugged languidly. It had to have been a while, certainly, for there was no one else in the dormitory but the two of them. "I considered waking you up earlier, then I reminded myself there was no point, you'd probably do it before Weasley and Potter, anyway."

It took a moment to make sense of her words– why would it matter if she woke up first, again? "Right! Do you know already? Who's captain?" Lucy asked urgently as soon as the context dawned upon her— that day, they'd figure out who made it to be the Captain of the Gryffindor Quiditch team.

"Pictured you would like to know first," Melody said, eyes following her companion to the dormitory's bathroom, where she stopped in front of the mirror. "They weren't there last time I went down. Well, Thomas was."

Of course Thomas was. He liked to torture himself, and wake up ridiculously early. Sharing a bedroom for fourteen years with him had been absolute madness. Then again, part of her missed those times when she slept on her objectively much more comfortable room on summer nights.

Lucy made quick work of throwing her uniform on, hastily tying the gold and maroon tie, without forgetting to put on the fishnet tights under her skirt, which had been the object of countless infractions to the school dress code. But, truth be told, that dress code must've been updated back in the 1800's, and that was being generous. It was 2020, things were different now. It was about self expression, but most importantly, it matched her self claimed aesthetic. And so did the black eyeliner on her waterline, though that was an optional part, depending how motivated she was. That day, she was in fact, quite motivated.

However, she was not patient enough to slip on her long cloak, she carried it in her own arms as she dashed down the stairs to the common room, her black hair and the wild tie flying alongside her, and her light feet had soon enough guided her right in front of the notice board, index finger searching for the notice she needed, anxiously mumbling under her breath.

Unluckily, Thomas had noticed this from his comfortable seat, and it was a worthy enough situation to get him to stand up quickly. "It's James! James got it, I told you!" He practically shouted in his sister's ear, without regard.

Her hands covered her left ear immediately, as an unpleasant shock ran through her spine. "You're such a bitch!" Lucy exclaimed, shoving him away as he cracked up with laughter. When she turned back, she spotted the announcement almost right away. If only he'd pulled his nonsense two seconds later, he would've looked like a fool. "You're such a little bitch," She reassured. "No wonder they made you Prefect."

"You wish you were," Thomas countered, getting the badge out of his cloak's pocket, gesturing to it obnoxiously.

"Oh, yeah. Useless responsibilities and ratting students out left and right, my truest dream!"

"But if it's Teddy Lupin, then he's extraordinary, fantastic, so incredibly–" Lucy wondered if he would ever drop the Teddy Lupin business, but it felt to her, like they might grow to be a hundred, and he would find a way to bring him up again.

"I take it you have figured out who was chosen?" Melody interrupted, unbothered by the twins' bickering, she'd grown all too familiar with it.

Her interjection was exactly what it took to shut Thomas up, and Lucy sure appreciated it. "Yeah. James."

"So you were right," Melody raised her eyebrows, glancing at Thomas, but her tone didn't sound impressed. Quite the opposite, in fact. "Nice."

"It was obvious," Thomas said, to which Lucy rolled her eyes in response. How was a choice like that obvious? They didn't even know who was picking. "Morning, Mel, by the way."

"You already said that, about ten minutes ago," Melody reminded him. What was obvious, Lucy would say, was that she was going to take Thomas's seat, and that he wasn't going to do anything about it.

"Oh, I did– well, doesn't hurt saying it again."

"Muppet," Melody shook her head, and lo and behold, she took the sofa he originally had, making it seem almost like a gracious movement.

Lucy was pleased to see Thomas did absolutely nothing to stop her. "Wanker."

"Why?!"

Well, it didn't take away from the fact that he was an idiot. However, she did not plan on answering that question. Even if she wanted to, it would've been too late, Fred and James had appeared in front of them breathless, hair still a mess, ties undone, and with a pair of missed buttons each of their white shirts. "Why– why d'ya look like that? I mean– Mel– Mel always looks like she hates us, but you two. What's going on? Don't tell me Collete Blanc got it– it'd be too much, having her boss us around," Fred Weasley was the first to ramble on, clearly mortified by the thought of a fourth year leading the Quiditch team.

"We take it straight to Minnie. If that happens, we take it straight to Minnie. She likes me, remember?" James said solemnly, incessantly running his hand through his hair, which held higher priority than any part of the uniform.

"She said she'd like you to give her a break for once," Thomas objected.

"And I am! It's been a week and a half since we were sent to her office, I'm giving her a break. Ergo, she likes me now."

"That's true. That really is true," Fred nodded, quite convinced of James's explanation.

"How about you check the notice board instead, yes?" Lucy suggested with an ironic smile, leaning herself against it, before finally putting on the cloak. Might as well complete the outfit.

"And stop calling Headmistress McGonagall 'Minnie'," Melody rolled her eyes. "It's disturbing, James."

There was a moment of silence, which Lucy took to give Thomas a warning look, in case he was tempted to ruin the surprise again. A brief warning look, though, because she quickly turned back to the two boys, not wanting to miss their reactions.

James made a terrible job of containing his laughter with a snort, a hand rushing to cover his mouth, as the news slowly dawned upon Fred, his expression turning more sour with every second, like smelling something rotten in the room. "I need to speak to Minerva. Effective immediately," He finally stated, and this time, no one cared to hide their laughter. Even Melody allowed herself a chuckle. "What are you laughing about?! Explain in bloody detail!" He cried, his voice octaves higher than the usual. "Morons! I said explain!" He insisted, when the laughter did not subside.

"Weasel head, it's far too early, shut up," Lily Luna Potter requested all too sharply for a second year just passing by in the common room, most definitely on her way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Lils! I'm team captain! Your very favourite brother!" James called after her, to which the redhead only responded with a thumbs up and a close-lipped smile, which looked rather ironic, but maybe that was just part of Lily's nature.

"I positively do hope you are not regretting having invited Aurora to watch, Weasley," Melody moved her hair behind her shoulders as she stood up, heading towards the portrait hole without waiting for an answer.

It took Fred a moment to analyse the words before his face illuminated with realisation, zooming after Melody. He was a man of priorities, he could complain about the system being rigged after, the possibility of Aurora Blanc being at the bleachers watching was exponentially more important. "Did you ask her, then? Did she say yes? You're making it sound like she said yes– Melody Heaven, get your pretty ass back here–" Were the last words one could make out for sure before the buzzing common room made it impossible, as well as the growing distance.

"Wanker," Thomas muttered, sending Lucy and James some sort of 'if he wasn't in my own house, I would've taken points away for that comment' kind of look, following the same path they'd taken, perhaps rushing a little bit, he did want to hear what was going on with that situation.

"I think coming to his Quiditch practices is some next level compromise," James said thoughtfully.

Sounded to Lucy, like it really was a thing he'd spent some time pondering on. "Suppose you're right," She shrugged, and he took that as a sign to start walking too, but she swiftly pulled him back by the hand.

"Lucía," He protested, dragging out the letter 'a' in it, yet allowing himself to be dragged back to her.

Though very used to the nickname, Lucy still rolled her eyes, as she did most of the times it came up. "Congratulations, twat," She said, stretching her arms out for a hug, which he didn't hesitate to accept, big, silly grin on his face. James had always been a touchy person, a lot more than her, especially when they were younger, and Lucy went through a lot of questionable phases, one of them being the profound refusal to physical affection because she didn't want to act 'how society expected her to act'.

One of the many stupid phases she went through, Lucy was very much aware now. She liked herself better when she didn't make up those kinds of things. And, frankly, she was somewhat of a physical person, too, as much as her twelve year old self craved to avoid it. "Now you better pick me for the team," She added lightheartedly.

"Oh, I don't know, my level is pretty much professional, step up," James responded, smile turning into more of a crooked, conceited one, that made him look like the living portrait of his grandfather.

"If I was on the team before, they would've made me Captain," Lucy retorted, pulling back from the embrace, but not completely away, as she went to focus on buttoning up the three wacky holes in his shirt in their correct place, then moving onto the tie. It was tradition- how things needed to be. She couldn't bother, for the most part, on tying hers neatly, but his, she could make an exception.

"Oh, really?" James asked daringly. "My mother is Ginny Potter—"

"And mine's Allana Stewart."

"—professional player for the Holyhead Harpies. My Dad is Harry Potter, used to be captain of his own team, and was the youngest seeker to be chosen in centuries," Both knew it could go on to involve his grandfather, if he wanted to. Lucy wouldn't be surprised if some other member of his family happened to have such raw talent, as well.

"What about your own merits, hm?" However, she wouldn't let the long list phase her, she refused.

"You're doubting my personal abilities?" James said, his tone almost incredulous, oddly balanced out with amusement.

"Not at all, Captain," Lucy looked back up at him when she finished the knot in his tie.

"Bloody right you're not," He confirmed, kissing the top of her head as a thank you, a gesture not uncommon between the two, ever since he had the inevitable growth spurt that hits (almost) every teenager. "You'll probably leave me with no other choice than to pick you, anyway."

She smiled in content. Fair. Quite fair, if she could say so herself. "I'm planning on it," She said, linking her arm with his, so that they could walk out to the Great Hall, properly, this time.


	5. [ 02 ]

**"MY DAD DIDN'T WRITE TODAY?"**  
Lucy half asked, not tearing her eyes away from the Great Hall's ceiling, where owls kept flying by in every direction, delivering both letters and packages to the many students in the room.

"He signed in yesterday's letter," Thomas remarked, pouring himself another glass of cranberry juice.

"But that was actually Mum's letter," Lucy said, straightening her gaze ahead, where her brother, and James sat. That Friday was sit with Fred day for her.

"Which he signed."

"Yeah, so it was an extra letter on his part, he always writes on Fridays."

"If he already wrote yesterday, it's stupid to send another today."

"Your logic is blowing my mind."

"Your stupidity is beyond—"

"Shut the hell up, Moony, hm?" James interjected, sending him a bitter smile, before going back to his parchment paper.

"Get yourself together, Tommy," Fred rolled his eyes in agreement.

"Why– why do you only go for me?" Thomas asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing. Lucy merely grinned in satisfaction, taking an apple from one of the big golden plates for further cocky effect. Or, at least, that was the way she saw it, because, really, what kind of cocky effect could grabbing an apple give?

"Your soul is still pure, I'm doing my best to corrupt it," Fred said, talking while he looked at his scrambled eggs like they were a gift from the ancestors.

"It's not pure—" Thomas began, but the other three's very judgemental stares cut him off. "Well, if you compare it with all you, then yes, I'm the only one going to the good place when we rot," He corrected.

"You'll spend eternity in boredom as punishment," Lucy condemned, cringing when Fred flicked his fork in approval, and a bit of food flew from it. "You're a pig," She shook her head, briefly looking at the ceiling for one last time. Well, maybe Thomas was sadly correct. It wouldn't be the first time. She would listen to him more, if she didn't find it mildly infuriating everytime he was right. "What are you doing? James?" It was a bit of an odd sight, him concentrating on something he was writing.

"Just writin' to my folks," He answered, with a small shrug.

"Are you telling them you got picked Captain?" Fred guessed.

"Oh, no, not that," James waved it off, as if the proposal was something beyond silly. "I'm telling them I've nearly gone two weeks without detention. Mum'll love that. She said she'd have my arse if she hears I hijacked a toilet. Reckon this'll make her happy until I do."

It took a second for the implication to sink in. "Why'd you want a toilet? They're kind of shit," Thomas said.

"I'm Captain of the team. I get to use the bathroom of the fifth-"

"Oh, yeah! The one on the fifth floor. It's bloody brilliant," Thomas beamed at the memory of it. Being able to enter the Prefects' bathroom was a life-changing experience one couldn't come back from. Any day, he could run up the stairs from the ground floor all the way to the fifth, just so he could use the bathroom privileges. The extra responsibilities were all worth it, just to be able to enter that room.

"You get it now," James agreed.

"How many students do you think have shagged in there?" Fred wondered thoughtfullly.

"I ran into four couples last year," Thomas shuddered at the memory, shutting his eyes to wish the image away. "Steve Addler really loved inviting people over, the git. Thank Godric he graduated."

"And those are only the times you caught him, aye," Fred added, nodding to his own remark. "Look, people already love bathrooms, that must be like, a huge fantasy, you even have the huge tub to swim in. It's filthy, for sure."

Lucy let out a quiet laugh at the comment, continuing to eat away at her apple, make sure to pay enough attention to the chat (it was an interesting one, no doubt of that). However, another side of her was questioning why in the world would James not write to his parents about getting to lead the Quiditch team. There could be the chance he was messing around– yes, that was probably it, or just didn't want to make a huge deal of writing to mummy and daddy, she wouldn't want to, either. Asides the fact that she very outwardly expressed she wanted a letter from her Dad that day.

"Oh, the amount of times I've looked at the map and saw two people getting all too familiar," James scoffed, raising his eyebrows. "Which, talking about the map, I—"

"Good morning, you four!"

"Merlin fuck!" James involuntarily exclaimed, clutching his chest as he turned to look at the source of the voice. "Hannah, be a dear, will you? Don't sneak up on people like that," It wasn't quite Hannah by herself that caused the fright, but the fact that he was talking about the Marauder's Map, and that someone external to them could've been attentive enough to hear.

"My apologies, James," She chuckled, giving him a pat on the back. Rare would be the day to see Hannah not smiling, long, wavy brown hair casually falling far past her shoulders, as if she'd just walked out of a movie set. Certainly, it didn't look as marvellous when she woke up in the morning, Lucy would know, sharing a dormitory could give a lot of perspective, the real mystery was how she made it so nice everyday– with a lot of determination, perhaps.

"Morning, Hannah," The remaining three chorused, with almost identical small, yet friendly smiles.

"Just dropped by to tell you congratulations on getting team captain—"

"There was no better fit," James sent an obnoxious wink Fred's way, which he responded to by gently holding up his middle finger.

"–and, Tom, today's our patrol day," Hannah finished, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"On a Friday?" At his terrible attempt of hiding how miserable the idea sounded, Lucy and Fred had to snicker.

"Oh, sorry, would you like to move it?" Hannah said.

"That'd be gre–"

"I was of course, being sarcastic," She smiled playfully, ruffling his hair. "See you tonight," She added, skipping by the other end of the Gryffindor table.

"How you got made Prefect, is a mystery to me," James expressed, rolling up his parchment, and shutting the ink vial. "A most convenient mystery," He beamed as the intrigue crossed his friends' faces, his crooked smile could've been handed to him directly from the James Potter that had run the school's corridors, all those years ago. "There's only one flaw to the map, that it doesn't show the Room of Requirement."

"Did you just make that name up?" Fred inquired, holding back a laugh.

"No, twat. The Room of Requirement, we learned about it last year in History of Magic," Lucy said. Maybe even the year before that. "Though Binns said it was a myth. He always says that of the things that are real."

"And you would know. Your parents were in the Dumbledore's Army ordeal, too," Thomas pointed out.

"Yeah, but Room of Requirement? That's like double R, the same initials? It's a little cheesy,"Despite the judging glances, Fred seemed to still find it quite amusing.

" _Everything_ here has double initials, it's our thing," Thomas said. "Godric Gryffinfdor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Peeves the Poltergeist–"

"Don't forget our Magnificent, Marvellous, Meritorious Mistress, Minnie McG!" James quipped, not being able to resist it (and not stopping to breathe, either), pointing enthusiastically to the Professors' table at the end of the hall.

This time, the severely judgemental glances went to James, and they didn't take long to shift to Lucy, who couldn't help but laugh at the sheer, yet ridiculous spontaneity. "I don't even know why," She defended herself once she'd calmed it down– mainly because of tears came out, the eyeliner was turning into a Hallowe'en look very quickly.

"Fine," Fred puffed out his cheeks indignantly. "Okay, fine, so, the Room of Requirement," He agreed, as if it was still something the rest had made up on the spot to conspire against him.

After blowing Lucy a mocking kiss, and she made the gesture of throwing it far away, James cleared his throat. "Idiot," He told Fred. "Anyway, the Room of Requirement isn't on the map. And we know for a fact it's real, because— parents. And I know it's on the seventh floor 'cause I keep track of everything my Dad's overshared—"

"But you couldn't do a foot long research about the stunning spell..." Lucy rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

"I've priorities that are way beyond that," He said solemnly. "Why do you all love to interrupt? I'm your leader, you stay silent and listen to me."

"I'm taking five points off for your shit," Thomas took it as his turn to wink and click his tongue mockingly.

"Godric damn it, Prongs!" Fred exclaimed, slamming his hand against the table, squinting his eyes to watch a few little rubies ascend back to the upper part of the Gryffindor hourglass.

"I take it back," James said, so as to avoid more points from being taken back, even though part of him knew it wouldn't be the case. "I'm just gonna tell you. Tonight, I grab my Dad's cloak. Thomas, make sure you get to guard the seventh floor corridor, the three of us will catch up with you."

"We're finding the Room of Requirement?"

"You heard me."

"Wicked," Thomas grinned, the smile making even his eyes brighten. "I'll be on it."

"D'you reckon we can still fit into the cloak? The three of us?" Lucy observed.

"If we stick very, very close, Luce, I do reckon we can," Fred wiggled his eyebrows, nudging her arm obnoxiously.

"Oh, Aurora, please come take him away from us," Lucy begged, looking at the Ravenclaw table, where Aurora sat, happily chatting away with Melody by her side, sadly unaware of her pleads.

"Amen," James and Thomas finished. None of them quite knew what that meant, but a lot of the muggle-borns, and some of the half-blood students used it quite a lot, the slang stuck around.

"Aurora Belle Blanc could punch me in the face, I would still say thank you," Fred sighed to himself, following Lucy's eyes to carefully admire the perfectly lovely figure that was Aurora to him.

"I'd thank her for that, too," Thomas muttered, sending Lucy and James the 'he's finally gone mad' kind of look.


	6. [ 03 ]

_Golden sun illuminated the magical street of Diagon Alley two years earlier, alerting everyone of the imminent sunset. But, the place was buzzing with people, inside and outside the stores, it was hard to detect any frowning expression. The day was the everlasting picture of what end of the summer should feel like, joyous, youthful, impatient, precious, leaving the door open for possibilities._

_In the spirit of taking chances, two minutes after Ginny Potter and Allana Stewart decided to head South of the alley to, in Allana's words, 'have a brief sulk about the prices at Twillfitt and Tattings', Lucy and James got up from the table. "Got business to attend to," The latter simply stated, something which neither his or her siblings had enough interest to question._

_"As if," Lucy scoffed when he offered his arm out, suggesting to link them together. "I can walk on my own."_

_"I'm not stupid," James rolled his eyes in response, still walking beside her. "But you're short. You're gettin' lost."_

_"Short? 'M not short," She argued. "You're like– a shuck hair taller, plus that's only because it's all messy—"_

_"Teeny, tiny, Lucy is teeny tiny ma– ouch! Lucía!" Cut off by her giving the back of his neck an unexpected little slap, he rushed to catch up to her in front of the Owl Emporium, which, luckily, was not far at all from the ice cream parlour._

_"Do you have a preference?" James asked._

_The pleased, mischievous smile lingered on Lucy's face as she answered, "No. You can pick."_

_It was her idea to get an owl for herself, but, apparently, according to parents, it was unreasonable for a fourteen year old to have an owl just for herself, when they were perfectly settled in with one owl for the five people in the family. It wasn't that Lucy did not like Stewie, and his comically long ears. In fact, she liked him so much, that she wanted one for her own. Anyone would know, Lucy Stewart was persistently, and unapologetically stubborn._

_And, heavens would tell, James Sirius Potter had a tendency to not only listen to her, but build on her ideas. Suggesting it should be the two of them to get an owl, just for them both to use, split responsibility and custody to exactly half and half was a perfect compromise for the pair._

_But, it was still her idea, and his eyes filled up with hopeful wonder when she said he could have the pick. "If you insist," He said, walking inside the shop, which wasn't as small as it appeared to be, but Merlin, was it tall, all filled to the brim with all types of owls, some screeching, some flapping their wings, other seemed to be in a real conversation with one another, and a few others asleep, head nuzzled into their wings._

_However, James already knew exactly where to look— and alas, if he observed too much, he might want to convince Lucy to take four more home. "Sorry. Thanks," He mumbled to a father watching the barn owls. If he would've thought of it twice, he might've believed the fact that the man wore thin rimmed, round glasses was a nice wink from the universe._

_How could anyone not want a barn owl, that was his question, and his frustrated hope, ever since he was ten, just before he got his Hogwarts letter. Arnie was a snowy owl, and of course he was his favourite sibling, but the barn owls' soft 'please take me' eyes had never really left the depths of his mind. Lo and behold, a little owl, with white fluffy feathers, orange and grey patterns on its wings, and a copper spot on its chest was once again staring at him, with 'please take me' eyes._

_"You want tha' cute little one?" It didn't take Lucy more than fifteen seconds to eye the store around. Had she been the one choosing, it would've been a more intricate search, but what was the point of it, if not?_

_The way the owl's head turned at once to look at Lucy, then back at him, and so on, only helped to solidify his decision. "Yes, it reminds me of you." It was meant to be a snarky quip, but by the way her eyes subtly widened, he realised how it had come out instead. "I meant– gross— I didn't— well, not precisely, I–" He didn't mean it, truly. But, also, he did. How could a teenage boy express that?_

_Gross? As if! "Whatever, you daft." Lucy shook her head, glancing back at the owl as she crossed her arms. The two instances in which neither talked felt like eternity weighing down on her shoulders. Sternly, and without regrets. "What d'ya wanna name it?"_

_"James."_

_"Absolutely not."_

_"What?! What the shuck does that mean, no?!" James asked incredulously, almost hurtly. "Someone's gotta carry on the family name, this owl might be my only legacy!"_

_"Your family name is Potter—" Lucy began._

_"Tell that to my Grandda' and my Dad—"_

_"And she's not a boy, it's obviously a girl." She pointed out, ignoring his stupid remark. "Boy owls don't have this much colour, much less on the tail. It's definitely a girl. Plus, she's prettier."_

_"Okay, then, we name it Jacy."_

_"What the shuck is a Jacy?"_

_"It's us. Our names. Us." Frankly, James thought he was quite witty to come up with that on the spot. "James and Lucy together make Jacy, it couldn' be more fitting!"_

_"You're such a daft." Lucy pretended to give it more consideration than what she actually did. The smile that brightened her face might've given it away, but he was still on the edge of the seat._

_"Please, please? C'mon, you're smilin', you know you love it!" James wiggled his eyebrows, cupping her cheeks in an overly exaggerated fashion._

_"Oi, quit that, James, seriously—" Lucy took his hands to move them away. "—I know your middle name is Sirius." She cut him off just as he opened his mouth again to remark it. "You smell like pretzels," She said, letting go of him._

_"I had a pretzel, you fool," James said, the classic 'duh' tone in his voice. "But what's really important is name, Lucía. Name! Would you please admit you love it already?"_

_"Bold." Lucy paused, but it wasn't long at all before she gave in. "Fine. Jacy Stewart-Potter."_

_James bit the inside of his cheeks. He'd been sort of thinking, that Potter-Stewart had quite the ring to it. But, a gleeful hoot from the owl, as though it was approving of it, was enough to convince him otherwise. Oh, what a weak heart that was! "Jacy Stewart-Potter, for sure."_

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"Jacy! Come here, Jacy!" Lucy called, having already spotted her barn owl perched high up, by one of the many windows without glass inside the owlery. "Jacy, do— that's my girl," She grinned as the owl flew down, holding her hand out for her. "You're the most gorgeous girl in the world, aren't you? No offence to the rest of you!" She said the last part a little louder, for the other owls seemed to go on a small screeching riot, while Jacy gladly leaned into the caressing of Lucy's other hand, which held a letter.

"Gorgeous, I need you to deliver this for me, okay? But you can't tell James. Not a single hoot to him, yeah?" She couldn't be sure whether Jacy understood her or not, but she had the feeling she did. Maybe it was the way the owl's piercing black eyes stared at her. It could've been her own bias, as well. "Just between us. This is for his parents, you know Harry and Ginny." Almost instantly after Lucy showed her the letter, Jacy eagerly took it into her beak. "Safe flight, hun," Lucy said, and as if on cue, the owl flew out the tower. Had her younger sister, Georgie, not just sent the family owl on a trip to Merlin-knows-where, she would've bid goodbye to Stewie, as well.

"That is one quick bird," Melody observed when she heard her step out the owlery, eyes squinting so the orange light from the sunset would be more amiable.

"Yeah, she is," Lucy agreed, taking in the sight before them. Painters from the romanticism would never grow bored of Hogwarts, though perhaps that was not saying much. She couldn't think how anyone would grow bored of Hogwarts. She certainly hadn't, and she couldn't fathom herself ever doing so. She could almost smell autumn in the air, with the orange leaves gliding past, and Rubeus Hagrid's pumpkin patch somewhere, not far from them. It was one of those twilights that couldn't belong to any other season but gorgeous autumn. Every sunset felt like the first time she was seeing the colours merge together in a harmonious meltdown, and yet, like the last time she would ever get the chance to behold such a thing.

"You know," Melody spoke, after a moment of comfortable silence. She felt safe in them. Those silences meant she was in the right place, with a good choice of people. "Sometimes I look at settings like these, and as I'm immersed in all its glory, a terribly intrusive thought comes to mind. Oh, to have _someone_ to share it with. How I wish I could stop being attracted to men."

Lucy knew exactly what she meant, from the words to the slight tone of sheer disappointment they carried. Understood it deeply, especially when that same thought had just begun etching its way into her head, knowing damn well it was not welcome there. But, admitting she thought of it, no, that was not an option. "I've always had that one family member to push it on. _Oh, my, my, Lucy, you don't have a boyfriend yet? Oh, dear, why is that?_ " She imitated the voice of an older, nosy witch to the best of her ability, making her voice far more nasal than her usual cool, relaxed type of tone. "Well, I don't bloody need to. We're called individuals for a reason."

"Being human is such a troublesome condition." Once she'd let out a lighthearted chuckle, Melody still reflected gravely, as the two simultaneously decided to begin their walk back to the Gryffindor common room. "Individuals, we're called. And still, we long to love and be loved. Such a funny condition, indeed."

By Dumbledore, how had a walking encyclopaedia like Melody Healey deemed fools like her, deserving of her acquaintance? Lucy would rather not question it, just to be safe... better not to taunt fate.

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"Voldemort's tits!" Fred hollered when his small stack of cards exploded right before his eyes, with no warning, or sense whatsoever. The Gryffindor common room was used to hearing all sorts of loud noises, but his scream, with how passionate it was, made most of the remaining students in the common room jump from fright. James had quite the opposite reaction, cracking up with laughter instead. "Why?! Why would it do that?! Could've blown my eyebrows right off!"

James hadn't the capacity, or the will to answer, his hands tightly clutching his stomach as his laughter carried on, soon feeling the effects of said action: the aching muscles of the stomach, and lack of air.

"James! You've heard Uncle Ron's stories! I coulda' been _eyebrowless_!" Fred exclaimed, wholeheartedly not believing he had it in him to laugh at such the potential tragedy.

But, he still laughed. James couldn't deny himself of such a pleasure– what did he worry about? There surely must be a spell, or a potion to make eyebrows grow back. Most importantly, it was funny. "Dunno why– why it happened–" There was still some laughter between his words. "Must be the deck... faulty or somethin'." _Eyebrowless_. He'd said that, and expected him not to laugh.

Okay, Fred might have had to admit, it was a little funny. Unfair, but just a tiny bit comedic. "It deliberately made me lose. How come yours didn't explode?"

"Because I'm James Potter," He answered. "Obviously."

"Obviously," Lucy remarked, having absolutely no idea what they were talking about, but an entrance was an entrance. "Scoot over, will you?" She waved her hand towards Fred, who seemed to struggle for a moment, but ultimately made some space in the armchair.

"I had space for you, Luce," James said, picking up the pile of cards, including Fred's, that were now coming together from the pile of dust they had exploded into.

"It's sit with Fred day." She reminded him. "Where's the pet?"

"Hannah already put the leash on him," Fred said, proceeding to swing his arm forward, making a whipping sound with his mouth.

"Look at yourself," James said incredulously. "Take a moment to look at yourself, and repent."

"First of all-" Fred raised his index finger, "-I don't know what that means. Second of all, it sounds like something I wouldn' wanna do, either way."

Lucy rolled her eyes in astonishment. How clueless could one get? "You're the biggest lover boy to exist, ever since you laid eyes on Aurora Blanc, you're over the bloody moon," She explained, putting an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

"I was a boy, a foolish boy before, she's opened my eyes. Now, I am a man-" He took great pleasure in the way James and Lucy made gagging noises and dramatic groans at the same time. "But, really, Thomas gets to share that huge bathroom with her, some wizards are just too buggin' lucky."

"Not just him now, Freddie." James winked. Merlin, why did he do that so much? Was it a tick, or something? He wasn't able to resist flashing cheesy finger guns, either. "Don't worry, though. She's your girl. Plus, I tend to knock before I barge into a restroom."

"I forget that you can go in there too now, blimey." Fred puffed his cheeks out.

"You should talk to her," Lucy concluded. Not that it was a complicated place to get to.

"I _already_ talk to—"

"No, not like that." She shook her head, holding her hand up. "Actually talk to her. Like a normal person would. Without a punchline, or some... grand... thing... to prove."

"Are you _tooling_ me, Lucy? It sounds like you're _tooling_ me." Fred narrowed his eyes skeptically.

"I am not _tooling_ you, you blitherin' buffoon!" Lucy said exasperatedly. "I'm telling you because it's true– people like to be heard and appreciated, they don't want to riddle out the meaning of every exaggerated exchange. It's just logical."

"You should listen to her." Melody approved. To set the record straight, she wasn't eavesdropping. The three were merely too caught up in their conversation to notice she was right in front of them. Honestly, after her sister considered Melody's slightest attempt of a conversation a personal attack, she could use the group's chaotic energy.

But, as much as she wasn't eavesdropping, or trying to sneak up on them, it was still a bit of a surprise to hear her so suddenly. "How long have you been there?" Fred blinked a couple times, just to ensure she was not an apparition.

"I'm always around," Melody responded ominously, "Even when you least suspect it," She widedned her eyes for creepy effect, before chuckling at her own antics. "What matters is, surprisingly, you should listen to her."

" _Surprisingly,_ she said _._ " Lucy scoffed indignantly.

"Did you want to sit down?" James asked simultaneously, making some space for her on the chair.

"It is quite alright, thank you." There was always something classic and gentle in the way Melody spoke, even in the way she declined. It hardly sounded like a sixteen year old speaking. Better said, she hardly sounded like a _Gen Z_ sixteen year old. "Where is Thomas?"

"Hannah," Fred said with a hum, repeating the whipping gesture and the funny sound. This time around, James and Lucy limited themselves to only rolling their eyes.

A brief frown crossed Melody's face, probably at Fred's rather cringy gesture. "I see." As if in thought, she paused, for just a moment, "Well, you will be left unsupervised, apparently. Should I fear?"

"Not at all," Lucy assured, and, on cue, James and Fred flashed innocent grins.

"I shall fear a tad. Just in case." Melody studied them cautiously, holding back a smile. They couldn't possibly know how much they entertained her with just a conversation. "I will be staying at the Ravenclaw common room today. Therefore, you won't find me in the dorm." She eyed Lucy as she said so.

"Sweet. Okay."

"Say hi to Roxie for me, will you?" Fred requested brightly. "Annoy her a little for me. But not too much. It's Friday."

"Noted." Melody made a check mark on the air, "Au revoir, bumbling jesters."

Bumbling jesters. Sounded about right.

· ˚ . * · ✵ · · ˚ * . ✵ . · ˚ * . · ✺ · . *· ✵ · · ˚ *

"Is there a chance of him actually listening to me?" Lucy considered, that while Fred went up to get a few sweets from the Skiving Snackbox after the common room had emptied (in case Filch caught them and they needed an excuse. Though it was unlikely, with the map in their possession, the man still craved to be evil, age would not stop him), it was the correct moment to ask.

"About Aurora?" James guessed, watching her nod from the corner of his eye, "Hard to tell. Sometimes you gotta let him realise it on his own."

"He's had a year to realise," Lucy said. It was worse at first, like he'd never seen a girl in his life. Studying with him for OWLs was an other-world type of challenge. It was no wonder only Thomas had passed the History of Magic OWL, he'd studied in the library, a wise choice. "But I think he has a chance." She couldn't be absolutely certain, but Melody backing her up was good sign. She knew Aurora better, anyway.

"Of course he does," James confirmed. No hard fact evidence, just a feeling, and a strange sort of trust on his cousin. "Didn't know you handed out love advice, Luce. Weren't you, perhaps, sworn enemies with love, or somethin'?" He knew the reaction he was going to get from her, it's where the shit-eating grin came from.

Cringing wasn't enough to describe the sensation, but for lack of another word... it was like she felt her soul cringe, rumbling into the deepest parts of her being, and a very sour expression crossed her face, accompanied by various shivers of distaste. "When I was twelve! I was full of bollocks when I was twelve!" Lucy cried. Merlin, she would love to punch herself in the face, she was willing to pay money if she had the chance.

She was not having a great time, but James sure had enjoyed the twisting and twitching around. "And, you were a bloody hypocrite, 'cause you were desperately in love with Teddy. _Teddy_. He's practically, like, my other brother–"

"Well, Potter, your _brother_ is very cute," Lucy reasoned, "And, I wasn't in love with him. I was in love with the idea of him, like the sad, wee child I was." He was at James's house all the time, he was older, by definition– wiser. His hair changed colours, and he never treated her like a silly kid, more like a friend with whom he enjoyed spending time with, of course he was perfect. "But, to be fair, that started at thirteen, not twelve."

"My mistake," James admitted, with a playful roll of eyes, "He used to think you were the funniest thing, asked when you were coming over and all, thought he was in love with you— don't laugh, it was a real concern! I told him off about it, and everythin'!"

"Godric's sake James, you're such an idiot–"

"That's what he said! Opened my eyes to the fact he's six years older, and all." Looking back on it, of course it was a stupid concern, but it was something he needed to clear up, anyway, he couldn't say he regretted it.

"It was absolute nonsense, aye." Lucy nodded, "Besides... Lucy Lupin? Doesn't quite fit now, does it?" She said jokingly.

"Could've been Teddy Stewart." James shrugged.

"No, I wouldn't want him to change his last name," Lucy said solemnly. She would agree the whole prospect of taking a significant other's last name was rather silly, and because of that, it was fun to bring it up. Ironically, she couldn't be any more truthful this time. Teddy was Lupin, and he shouldn't switch that esence of his. Perhaps it was foolish to think of it as an esence, but his last name carried all too much meaning and history, he should keep it.

"So sentimental of you," James commented, raising his eyebrows in mocking amazement, even though he did agree, as well. He never knew Teddy's father– obviously– but his own Dad spoke all too fondly of him, the admiration was never not present in Harry Potter's voice whenever he mentioned Remus Lupin, so he supposed it was only fair, that Teddy kept it. Not that he ever showed any signs of wanting to get rid of it, to James's knowledge. Sometimes, it would bring more grief, he knew that, even if he hadn't used those words, he understood. Sometimes, it was the closest thing he had to that man he never knew, but called his father, nevertheless... a name. And when you only have a name, sometimes, just sometimes, it feels like all there is, all there ever was, was just a helpless echo into the void.

"Anyway!" He shook his head, ridding himself of those existential ringings in his head. "What advice would you give me?"

"What, who are you trying to win over?" Lucy didn't bother masking her intrigue, seeing no need to.

"No locked target, jus' want your thoughts."

"Don't be daft," She recommended, a subtle snicker leaving her lips. "All you ought to do is smile, my boy."

"Really?"

"Truly." Lucy said, now properly chuckling, turning her body around to face him, but really, she wanted to hold his face between her hands in a Shakespearean kind of drama. "Probably comb your eyebrows too, that would go nicely." She added, the ghost of a laugh never leaving her face as she brushed her hands up, index fingers tracing his eyebrows intricately, the little hairs faltering into place at her touch.

It was only a missed heartbeat, but it felt as though the world had stopped spinning. The once familiar feeling of floating out of himself and away from all mortal concerns. The idea of timelessness, sweet, warm eternity in someone's icy blue eyes. _No. Why did she do that? No, shit, no. No. No. We've been through this. No. No. Time to close down memory lane. No._

"Thanks, fool. Very flatte—"

"Why is it, that everytime I leave you two alone you look like you were about to snog?" Fred interfered loudly, stepping down the last stairs, clutching fever fudges and puking pastilles to his chest.

"Because, Fred, that is all you think about." Lucy pointed out, pulling her arms back, and checking she was indeed carrying her wand inside her cloak.

"You bloody wish." James added, looking somewhere beyond Lucy and Fred, beyond the walls of the common room, beyond the limitations of the world, perhaps. Lost somewhere between what was tangible and what was not. "What do you— oh, right, right." He quickly nodded in an attempt to correct himself– in his defence, Fred just standing in front of him expectantly wasn't precisely communicative. But, the moment he got it, he drew out the Marauder's map and the old, silvery invisibility cloak from his cloak pocket, not without jiggling with a few coins, owl treats, liquorice wands, and the bottle of broomstick handle polish he hadn't been able to find for the past two weeks. He probably needed to give that a clean. Ever since he placed the extension spell on the pockets, things had gotten a bit out of hand... no pun intended.

In turn, Fred stuffed the funny sweets into the pocket, a faint _clang_ sounded as they landed. "How many things are you storing there?" Lucy wondered, impressed. If they could hear a sound, then that was saying something, indeed.

"Only the essential," James responded, still sounding disoriented, breathless, "Of course. Uh– here, you are drivin'. Fred and I'll take care of the cloak." He cleared his throat, tossing the map to her (trying to read a map in dim light would be asking too much of his eyesight anyway, and he was _not_ wearing glasses, thank you very much), putting his right hand over his cheek, leaning into it, maybe it would cool down the burning blush.

Pleased with having the map in her hands, Lucy eagerly drew her wand out to awaken it. Meanwhile, Fred kept his stare on James, as if he'd just said Christmas was the worst holiday. Answering to him, James made the gesture of slashing his throat. It wasn't meant to be taken as aggressively, but his mind had completely forgotten there was a gesture to say 'keep quiet' instead. It decided to throw that information out the window, conveniently. Lucky for him, once every golden occasion, Fred Weasley wasn't as dense as he could appear to be.

· ˚ . * · ✵ · · ˚ * . ✵ . · ˚ * . · ✺ · . *· ✵ · · ˚ *

In the middle of the chilly, omniscient corridors of Hogwarts, Thomas Stewart's cheeks were also quite flushed indeed, by the time he reached the seventh floor after a good run from the fourth floor. "Not cool. So not cool." He practically wheezed out. He didn't care if James, Lucy, and Fred wanted to brag all they wanted about being able to fly oh-so-graciously in a broom, _this_ was the true workout routine. Unscrewing a chandelier, and pulling a marathon to the seventh floor, hoping Hannah, but most importantly, Filch, blamed it on Peeves the Poltergeist was more adrenaline than he'd imagined for the night. But, he found comfort in knowing it would keep them entertained, safely away from the seventh floor.

Merlin, who had made the terrible, terrible decision to have him be a prefect? It must be a true crisis to put Gryffindors in the prefect position. That sounded like a fact.

Once he'd regained some of his energy, Thomas straightened himself up. Looking to his side, a moving tapestry, of a wizard trying to teach ballet to... trolls? Yes, they weren't ogres, those were trolls. He'd probably seen it a few times already, but this was the first time he truly realised what was going on, and its utter foolishness. But, what did he know? Salazar Slytherin had deemed it reasonable to breed a giant, slimy, deadly snake inside the castle.

Opposite to the tapestry, past the columns, on the other side of the hall, was a very empty wall. A suspiciously empty wall, with no torches, no paintings, or windows, or even tapestries. And yet, by the shapes of the columns, and the way the corridor was built, it seemed to suggest that by the end of it, one would find a door. Was he reading too far into it? It could be the tiredness getting to him, making him see nonexistent patterns, but Thomas decided few things at Hogwarts were ever a coincidence.

He didn't quite know how it worked. He knew the room answered to the user's needs, and that it could practically be anything one wanted it to be, the thing was, he didn't know what _they_ wanted– needed it to be. He knew he wanted to see it, but what did he want to find there? Was there a method to ask?

"Surprise me? Please? Anything you want. Something we must see," He repeated inside his head over and over again as he paced in front of the seemingly solid wall, back and forth, back and forth. Hell, the room must have thought he was an idiot... if rooms could do such things.

He had perhaps walked in circles about nine times, when there was a whisper. "Thomas."

He abruptly stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as saucers as he looked towards the wall. "Room of Requirement?"

"No, you tosspot!" Lucy hissed, pulling the invisibility cloak over her head, Fred trying to quiet down his laughter with a hand over his mouth, and James began stuffing the silver cloth in his pocket once more. "Since when do rooms _talk_?"

"I don't know that! It's a room that knows what you need, it could be!" Thomas argued, though his sister did hold quite the fair point.

"I'm starting to think, Thomas, that we could've given you the map instead, y'know save you the hassle," James said thoughtfully, eyes lingering on Lucy, who still held the map as if it were a trophy. At her small smile, he looked back to Thomas, goofy grin in place.

"Yeah. That would've helped. Like, really helped." Thomas's voice cracked just the slightest bit. Why hadn't he thought of that himself? Could've saved him a bit of running, certainly.

"Sorry for that, pet," Lucy admitted, "By the way, do you know what's happening in the fourth floor? It's mayhem. Peeves is there, Filch is there... there's a few name tags on top of one another..."

Thomas inched closer to her, looking where the tip of her wand illuminated, quietly gulping at what she saw. Right she was, there seemed to be a fuss down at the fourth corridor. He found himself hoping to his lucky star that Peeves decided to take the blame himself. It was exactly why he did it, anyway. Peeves unscrewed chandeliers every Sunday without fail (to give the school week the right start, he'd claimed), and extra times whenever he felt particularly bored. "Reckon someone probably did something with the chandelier."

"What did you do to the chandelier?" Lucy asked, and odd mixture of disapproval and wonder in her voice.

Uncharacteristic of him, Fred was hardly listening to the conversation, instead keeping a determined gaze on the wall. This was it. This had to be it. How would he prove that, was another topic, but this had to be it. His thoughts weren't going into nowhere, they were being poured out _somewhere_. They were being listened to, so this had to be it.

"Guys," Fred spoke, taking a step back, out of pure instinct, biting his cheeks to avoid smiling, "Oi, Marauders!" He said more loudly, successfully grabbing their attention that time.

"I knew it!" Thomas whispered excitedly. Of course Hogwarts was not a place for empty coincidences, there was meant to be a door there.

"You're such a bloody genius, Fred," James said, eyes gleaming with vivid curiosity.

"Aye, you and Thomas really are," Lucy mumbled. She had lived surrounded by magic her whole life, but she wouldn't deny, everytime she saw it act before her eyes, it marvelled her over again. "Mischief managed," She told the map, before folding it, and handing it back to James. She didn't think she could stand back and admire for any longer. Not to mention that, there always was a chance of someone walking by, and catching them... it wouldn't be ideal.

James didn't hesitate to follow suit, and the two of them pushed the door open, and he really, honestly did not notice how their hands brushed for a quick second. There didn't seem to be the slightest hint of light coming from the room, as if all it contained was darknesss.

"Lumos." Was the little chorus of the boys' voices, and all their wands lit from the tip to match Lucy's, who, by nature, hadn't waited to go inside.

The absence of anything and everything, the sheer obscurity looming inside the room not only seemed consuming, it felt consuming. Like it was pressing down onto them, attempting to drain their breath. There wasn't a sound, or any trace of a smell, either. Only the faded smell of berries from Lucy's figure, and the one of freshly washed clothes coming from Thomas, if one paid intricate attention. The mellow light from each of their wands was hardly enough to illuminate a metre in front of them, and it just seemed to add into the tense, breathless atmosphere.

"Son of a bitch!"

Until that.

Thomas rubbed the side of his head with great care, the stinging of the shock against– the wall... whatever that was, was torturing the nerves of his face, and with a little fright jump, the other three turned to look at him. "I'm fine– just bumped against the wall, I think. Didn't realise it was so bloody narrow in here."

Fred furrowed his eyes in thought, and swung himself backwards, hitting the other side almost immediately. "Well, there was absolutely no need for that, was there?" Lucy said incredulously, after his harsh _thump!_ was heard.

"Wanted to see if it really was that narrow." Fred groaned out his response, instead of rubbing the side of his head, he put a hand on the back of his neck, as if that would stop the throbbing. Probably not his smartest move, but at least it worked. "There's no way that that was just wall," He continued, pointing his wand at it with the other hand. "Yeah– called it. It's like, a frame? Is it a painting?"

"Lumos maxima." James flicked his wand up, and the ball of bright, white light went flying up, now lighting up a good part of the place.

Quite narrow the room was indeed, but it was long, long, overwhelmingly so, none of them could see its end, just more endless, unnerving darkness. However, right was Fred, to suggest the walls weren't undecorated. There was nothing lying in the stiffening path, but the walls, those were all covered by portraits, all the same size, around three metres tall, with bronze, victorian-styled frames around them. The particularity, none of them moved, which, predictably, caused great confusion amongst the four gryffindors.

"Sweet gracious heavens." Thomas shivered, looking away from the brittle faces in the portraits. There was something so terribly... cold about those portraits. So deeply lifeless, and stern. He did not know how muggles managed to coexist, admire such still images, that looked like they could burn a hole into one's soul. "It's like– bloody hell, it's like... the picture of Dorian Gray, multiplied by a thousand."

"Don't you ever mention something like that in a place like this again." Lucy deadpanned, to which James and Fred nodded at once. Everybody knew of the picture of Dorian Gray, and its subtle grip on the ghastly side of magic. A seemingly soulless picture, that contained all the darkness, and incurable deeds of the man painted. A story that never left any witch or wizard's memory. Nobody would wish for the same fate as Dorian Gray, or for the tragedy of the painter who'd inadvertently charmed the picture, Basil Hallward.

With somewhat measured caution, the sixth years walked ahead the long room, casting quizzical glances at the portraits, and avoiding eye contact with them for longer than a few seconds... just in case. There was a different person in each of the frames, but they all wore Hogwarts robes, from their respective houses, and none of them looked older than eighteen, or younger than eleven. Students. Though nobody said it, the four all wondered who they were, not being able to recognise any faces. Lucy had determined they had to be real, it was a feeling– they seemed so real, they had to be. Maybe just... not from their time.

"Why did it bring us here?" James questioned aloud. There was no need to whisper, but the ambience of the room made him unconsciously lower his voice. "Why do we _require_ this place?"

"Maybe it's faulty," Fred responded.

"Can't be faulty. It just can't," Lucy stated. That was not how Hogwarts worked... could it even be possible? That any aspect of Hogwarts was not properly working? It sounded impossible, that was certain. Granted, she couldn't find an answer to James's question, either, and she couldn't imagine one at the given time, either.

"These are students, right? They have to be... but _what_ students? You don't recognise anyone, do you?" Thomas spoke, and they all listened, alright. It resonated with them, sank in, and it was the same reason why nobody answered. Nobody wanted, or dared to say it just yet, but they were all thinking of it: _what if they found themselves there?_

"You okay?" A little shiver ran down Lucy's spine at James's unexpected murmur, but was extinguished when he linked his pinky finger with hers, a safe warmth washing over the nervous sweat.

"Always." She gave him a close lipped smile, pulling her hand away, settling with gently elbowing him. It wasn't quite the same, she knew, but it was what it was supposed to be. He knew it, too.

"What is it?" Thomas walked over to Fred, upon noticing he'd stopped in front of one of the portraits, his expression no longer of confusion, but shock. Freezing dismay. He too, looked at the painting, and for a moment, his expression was a direct reflection of Fred's, when he was met by a tall, skinny, redheaded boy, standing proudly, with his Gryffindor robes. His vibrant, brown eyes were playful, accompanied by mischief, and the faint smile on his lips perfectly showcased it.

It wasn't his father, Fred knew that, though he'd been admittedly fooled when he gave it a first glance. He cleared his throat to answer, lip quivering ever so slightly before doing so, "I think they come from 1998."


End file.
